Gemotions

The spreadsheet finally uploaded. For weeks, Amelia had been slaving over it, battling glitches and recalcitrant software. Now, the finalized data was live, ready for the quarterly report. She leaned back in her chair, a slow smile spreading across her face. The fluorescent lights seemed to gleam just a little brighter, the office hum a barely noticeable melody of accomplishment.

Across the room, Mark, her coworker, was staring at her. "You okay, Amelia? You’re practically glowing."

"Just… finishing something," she replied, her voice filled with a lightness that surprised even herself. "Big project."

He chuckled, a short, disbelieving sound. "Well, congrats. Seriously. I've been meaning to ask -- did you ever go to Camp Clearwater?"

Amelia's chest tightened, a thrill of memory sparking. "Wow. Yeah, I did. Years ago."

"No way," Mark exclaimed, eyes widening. "Me too! Cabin 7, all the summers of my childhood."

She leaned forward, suddenly animated. "I was in Cabin 3! Remember the talent show? The time you tried to juggle?"